New Zealand Teens, Swimmers and a Warm Glow

People from Indiana will tell you that when they build a high school they build the basketball gym first and the school with whatever money is left over.  In Texas they start with the football field.  Tom and I are now in New Zealand and have seen the Kiwi version of the same thing—the swimming pool.  We have not passed a school that did not have a decent sized lap pool on the grounds with dozens of heads churning through the water.  Every lane is filled with a rhythmic line of swimmers building endurance by logging time.  Hot or cold, rain or shine, early or late, they are there.  I know the routine: head low, arms cutting the water like blades, the slightest rooster tail in the kick, flip turn, push off the wall and keep going, guts out, gung ho, lap, after lap, after lap. 

            All forms of water sport are revered in this island country.  They don’t just race, however.  These same swim clubs compete in life saving and sea rescue meets.  We had the privilege of watching some of the teams in action at a beach park our first weekend in country.   We also met the parents and grandparents who were there to cheer them on.  But, evidently, there is something more than skill and pride being taught in these organizations.  There is also a healthy dose of character built in to those laps. 

Tom and I were able to observe these high school teens in action when no adults were around to supervise them.  It was instructive.

            We rented a campervan in which to live and travel while visiting New Zealand.  Routinely, the RV parks are designed with large group kitchens and outdoor barbecue pits.  The evening of the life saving competition Tom and I grilled a couple of steaks and were enjoying a picnic with a beach view.  We were soon joined by a group of about a dozen teen-agers.  They were part of a water rescue club that had been competing at the beach earlier that day.  There was no adult in sight, but it didn’t matter.  They had this job covered. 

            Fish filets and veggies were being prepared and seasoned in foil and steaks were tossed on the grill.  As you might guess, the guys were in charge of grilling, the girls brought in bowls of pasta salad garnished with fresh greens.  Liters of soda were tossed on the table and napkins were meticulously folded in exotic shapes.  This engendered a great deal of laughter, but it was also encouraged.  The group had all the trappings of any group of teens.  The smart phones were hard at work.  All aspects of dinner were being photographed.  Teasing, joking, laughter and jostling abounded.  It was also a text book group dynamic.  All the usual suspects were present: the leader, the reliable helpers, the slacker and the comedian.   Most of all, these were like-minded friends, comfortable in their own skin and enjoying their time together.  There was also a group discipline and behavioral standard at work.  There was not one single rude, obscene or profane word said.  They cleaned up after themselves.  They were careful of the small children playing about.  It was as if being good athletes had given them a mandate for good behavior instead of a license for bad.    

            It made me feel that the world was in good hands.  If the torch were handed to this group of young people we could all rest easy. 

            Half a world away from my home, they are still keeping the faith.